


Raise a Little Hell

by WestEndWhirlwind



Category: Bat Out Of Hell: The Musical - Steinman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestEndWhirlwind/pseuds/WestEndWhirlwind
Summary: Tink's just a waiter with dreams to be a movie star...but the wanted criminal Strat comes along and rocks his world.





	1. Prologue

_Tink's eyes snapped open as a grin split his face. He ripped the covers off and sprinted out of his room, slamming down in front of the television and watching as Raven Falco, renowned actress and his role model, stepped onscreen. Even though he was only six years old, Tink knew that's what he wanted to do - perform on television. It wasn't going to be easy, but he could do it. After all, if Raven could get there, why couldn't he?_

_Strat stood and watched as his father was taken into custody yet again. He'd get out in a few months for good behaviour - he always did. Until then...Strat fingered the pistol in the waistband of his jeans. Giving an eight-year-old a gun wasn't normally a good idea, but if he was going to follow in his father's footsteps (and quickly surpass them), he'd need to start early. He was no Al Capone yet, but he'd get there. There wasn't anything stopping him, and nothing and no one could distract him from his goal._


	2. Holding Out for a Hero

_*Ten years later*_

Tink sighed as yet another patron refused him a tip, pocketing the bill for delivery to the rest of the staff. He couldn't keep going like this - living off a $5 weekly paycheck was pretty much impossible. He checked the clock and breathed a sigh of relief - five minutes 'til he could clock out and go home. And yet...nothing ever worked exactly like he planned.

Two minutes before he could leave, a regular burst through the door shouting, "They're putting Jag and Strat on trial again!" Tink's ears perked. Strat and Jagwire were the two top criminals of the town, getting thrown in and out of jail every other week. All for small crimes, mostly - hot-wiring cars, stealing a few bits and bobs; nothing serious.

"What're they in for this time?" Tink called. The guy grinned.

"Auto theft. Strat's fault." Tink quirked a smile - seemed that Strat could never resist a sweet ride.

"What model?"

"It's a bike, actually. Harley Davidson, kinda beat-up...didn't seem Strat's style. Not flashy enough," the guy scoffed.

"Maybe he's just trying for attention now, ever think of that?" Tink suggested.

"Yeah, sure, kid. Strat Barrow stole a silver-black phantom for attention." The patron was still chuckling when he left.

Tink rolled his eyes and hung up his apron. Being the youngest in town was wearing thin, fast. _It's gonna be fine. Just get to Hollywood, and all your problems will be solved._ Tink forced a grin and walked toward the courthouse, breathing in the fresh cool air. _Might as well see what all the fuss is about._


	3. On Trial

Strat smirked as he was brought before the judge.

"Strat Barrow, you stand accused of auto theft. How do you plead?" He ran a hand through his sandy hair and winked, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops.

"C'mon judge, how d'you think? Aren't you tired of dancing this dance over and over and over again?"

The judge sighed and rubbed his temples.

"C'mon Barrow, just fess up so we can all go home."

"What's the evidence?" he asked.

"Strat..." the judge growled.

"Judge! This is a formal setting, and you swore to only call me by my first name in the bedroom!" The judge went beet red.

" _Strat Barrow!_ "

 The boy's smirk was cool, eyes gleaming. "Yes?"

The judge was clearly struggling to keep his composure, and Strat was enjoying every second of it. "The evidence...presented...against you...is two eyewitness accounts. They claim to have seen both you and your friend Jagwire climb the fence into the enclosure, steal the motorcycle, and get away."

"And yet, we didn't."

"Excuse me?" the judge asked through gritted teeth. Strat could feel his audience watching - time to give them a show.

"If we'd gotten away, as you so boldly claim, we would not be standing in the courtroom debating this very subject. Jag and I would be halfway to hell by now, and you'd be none the wiser. So clearly, we didn't 'get away'." He made air quotes with his fingers, eyes sweeping the room as he paced it.

"Cut to the chase, Barrow."

"Simple - either your guys are good at what they do, which I doubt, or Jag and I wanted to be caught."

"And why would you two _want_ to be taken into custody?" the judge sneered.

"Easy - to give the people a show. Good entertainment is so hard to come across these days." Strat's eyes locked onto another boy's in the crowd - toasted brown skin, deep brown eyes, a streak of blond in a sea of brown curls - and felt something zap between them. He shook his head to clear it, shoving the practiced smirk back onto his face and finishing his statement with a flourishing bow. "Now, if you'll excuse us - we have somewhere else to be." Strat strolled back to the bench, offering his hand to Jagwire, who took it with a grin. "Au revoir, dear people! Parting is such sweet sorrow...and yet, we'll likely see you all again soon!" Strat called. Smoke filled the room, and sounds of coughing resonated around them. Strat's eyes locked on the boy's one more time. _And I'll be seeing_ you _again sooner rather than later._

 


	4. Stuck in the Closet

Tink couldn't look away from that penetrating gaze, and kept his eyes glued to the burning blue orbs until they disappeared in the smoke. He snapped back into focus to find people shouting, trampling each other in their rush to get out of the courtroom. Tink slid against a wall, creeping along it until his hand brushed a door handle. Deftly unlocking it, he slipped inside to keep safe until the chaos subsided. He drew in a deep breath and sank down, back against the door.

"Good to know I'm not the only one who hides in broom closets." Tink jumped up, reaching for a weapon. A low chuckle came from the darkened corner. "Really? You're gonna defeat me with a mop?" Tink lowered the handle slowly.

"Depends. You gonna make me?" The chuckle came again.

"I like your moxie, kid."

"Who are you?" He leveled the mop again. A shadow coalesced from the darkness.

"What, you couldn't recognise me? I'm hurt." Strat Barrow appeared, leaning his shoulder against the wall. Tink felt the tips of his ears go pink. _Shit, he's hot._

"What's your name, kid?"

"Tink." The reveal was grudging...he couldn't trust this guy, no matter _how_ he looked. Strat pushed off the wall and stepped towards him. "Don't come any closer!" Tink shouted. Strat put his hands up.

"Whoa, Tinkerboy! Slow down. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"How do I know that?" Strat jerked his chin towards his raised hands, a slow smile spreading.

"You think I can reach anything with my hands up?"

"I _know_ you can. I've seen you."

"Always nice to meet a fan. What'd you need, an autograph? Framed photo?" Tink lowered the mop and rested his chin on it.

"First of all, I'm _not_ a 'fan'. And second, I didn't even know you were in here! I just found the closest door and ran in."

"But I _definitely_ locked it. You picked the lock to get in here, Tinkerboy."

"Stop calling me that!" he yelled.

Strat smiled again, but it had lost some of its bite.

"Hey. Look, if you want to beat me up, go ahead. I'm not gonna fight you. But if you want to talk a little more...well, I'm not against that."

"Where's your buddy? I thought you and Jagwire went everywhere together," Tink asked suspiciously.

"Jag's getting the escape pod ready so we can jet." Tink felt something in him deflate.

"You're leaving?"

"Yep. It's getting too crowded here, and we've already done everything we could possibly do. What's the point of committing the same old crimes when we could go somewhere new, start all over again?" Tink blew out a breath and fell against the wall.

"At least you _have_ a choice. I'm stuck here." His voice caught in his throat, and he closed his eyes. There was no _way_ he was going to cry in front of Strat Barrow. He heard footsteps, and opened his eyes to find Strat's face close to his own.

"We've always got room for one more..." Strat offered.

"Yeah, right. All I'd do is get in the way. That's all I ever do." Strat's hands reached out to cup the boy's face.

"Hey, I'm sure that's not -"

As soon as their skin came into contact, an electric jolt passed through them both, leaving them breathing heavily and staring wide-eyed.

"That wasn't just me, right? You felt that too?" Tink gasped. Strat moaned.

"That was _definitely_ something I haven't felt before."

"Are you okay?! I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened -"

"Not your fault." Strat peeled himself off the wall and smiled at Tink again. "If you change your mind, Jag and I'll be here until midnight. Come find us in the junkyard." Strat smiled, brushing his thumb along Tink's jawline and leaving a tingling sensation behind. With a final wink, Strat disappeared through the door, and Tink was left staring out at the empty courtroom.

 


	5. The Destruction of a Duo

As soon as Strat reached a secure spot, he collapsed. _What the hell was that?_ The kid - Tink - had done something to him that he'd never felt before. He'd slept with his fair share of people, and none of them had ever had that effect on him, which meant something bad, he was sure of it. He checked the clock and did a double take. _Shit_. He was definitely late...again. Jag was gonna kill him. He took off for the junkyard, banishing Tink from his mind, although he knew he couldn't keep him there forever.

"Hey Strat, the hell, man? You were supposed to be here -"

"A while ago. I know, Jag." He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath.

"What kept you?"

"Nothing. It's not important." His friend's eyes widened.

"It was that kid, wasn't it? The one you were staring at during the trial!" Strat shook his head wildly.

"No way. I don't even know him!" Strat defended himself.

"You can't lie to me, Strat. I've known you forever." Jagwire's forehead creased. "We're leaving tonight, buddy. You can't afford any deadweight attachments here." Strat rubbed his forehead - Jagwire wasn't going to like this.

"The thing is...I kind of...told him he could come with. If he wanted." Jag's eyes bulged.

" _Are you serious?!_ Strat, that kid could be a _huge_ liability! Getting caught on purpose is one thing - without a planned escape, we could end up locked in for an actual sentence!" Strat blew air out of his nose. His hair was sticking up from every angle.

"I know, I know! It was stupid, but this kid doesn't have anybody! You and I _both_ know how that feels!"

"Of course we do, Strat, but we can't just adopt every single stray that you see!"

"I don't do that!" Jagwire raised an eyebrow. "That was _one damn time_!"

"One too many, if you ask me."

"What happened to Morderma was an accident," Strat murmured.

"And unless you want Tink to have an 'accident' like hers, you need to get rid of him."

Strat sighed. "Jag -"

"I'm leaving tonight, Strat. With or without you."

 


	6. Body Electric

The junkyard's chainlink fence rattled as Tink pushed it open, and he flinched. It was 12:30, and Strat and Jagwire would be long gone by now. He just needed to see one last trace of the blue-eyed, blond-haired, black-hearted boy he just couldn't seem to shake.

He picked his way through the wreckage, spotting a silhouette propped up against the shell of a motorcycle. _Wait..._ " _Strat?!_ "

The shadow's head whipped up. "Hey, Tinkerboy." His voice was flatter than it had been.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you gone? Where's Jagwire? Wh-" Strat held up a hand, the shadow of a smile ghosting across his features.

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, kid! One at a time." Tink took in a breath and nodded. "I'm staying here awhile longer. Jag and I...we had a little disagreement, and he headed off to the city. I'll meet him there later." Tink wanted to catapult into Strat's arms, but he knew that wasn't a good idea...and what if the same phenomenon from this morning occurred? Still, he could feel something connecting them...and he hoped Strat could feel it too.

"What do you want to do?" Tink was taken aback by the sudden question.

"What?"

"You can't possibly have wanted to end up waiting tables in a dead-end diner in a dead-end town. What do you want to do?"

He didn't even need to think. "I want to act."

"Act?"

"In movies. I watched so many of them as a kid, and...I just _knew_ that was what I wanted from life." Strat smiled.

"Well, you certainly have the face for it. The girls would be falling all over you." Tink blushed.

"I'm not _that_ attractive."

"We'll have to agree to disagree," Strat murmured, so softly Tink almost didn't catch it.

"I want to go to Hollywood. Try my luck, see where it takes me." Strat's smile was visible even from the other end of the junkyard.

"Luck isn't something you're gonna need, kid. Trust me."

"It's a stupid dream," Tink cut in suddenly. "I just...I don't have the money, and I couldn't just leave. I have too many ties here. I can't just...disappear." Strat blew a curl out of his face and shrugged.

"Well, that's your choice, Tinkerboy. I just want you to be happy." Tink felt his lips quirk up into a sardonic smile.

"I don't think I really have a choice in the matter."

"It's your life. There's always a choice."

Strat pushed himself off the bike and began walking towards him. Tink stepped back out of habit, then noticed the cold silver gleam of a pistol in Strat's waistband.

"What are you gonna do with that?" Tink asked, pointing to the gun. Strat stopped.

"It's nothing, kid. Don't worry about it. Just insurance." _Dangerous...he's a criminal...don't forget that. But he's never killed anyone...that you know of._ Tink pressed his palms to his temples in a futile attempt to stop the whispered warnings. "Tink, I swear. I'm not gonna use it on you, if that's what you think." Strat reached towards him but stopped, pulling his hand back at the last second. "You're scared of me."

It was quiet, but the words carried.

"What? No! I'm not -"

"You should be. I'm a wanted criminal." His face was closing off, eyes darkening.

Tink couldn't help himself. He grabbed Strat by the shoulders and stared him down.

"I am _not_ scared of you." The electricity surged through them both again, making their breaths ragged. "Don't _ever_ think I'm scared of you."

 


	7. Darkened Deeds

His eyes were earnest...he really wasn't afraid. The pull was becoming too much...Tink wouldn't break the connection, and Strat wasn't about to. He moaned, the sound quiet but full of longing.

"Tink -" He didn't finish the thought. Tink's lips surged against his, and Strat let out a soft sound of surprise. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. Tink linked his hand through Strat's and smiled.

"I'm not leaving you, Strat. No matter what."

"Tink, I can't let anything happen to you -"

"Nothing will. Not as long as you're here."

"If anyone found out -"

"They won't."

"Tink, you'd be ruined. You know what happens to people like _us_ here..."

"They _won't_ find out," he said firmly. Strat looked at him again, eyes trailing from the tips of his curls to his beat-up sneakers.

"Strat...?" Tink's voice was ragged and breathy.

"Yeah?" Strat was surprised to find his voice had the same quality. He was usually able to keep his emotions under control. And yet...there was something different with Tink. Tink took a tentative step forward...and sprinted into him, knocking him flat on the floor. Their lips locked again, and neither of them had any intention of pulling away. Tink's fingers wound themselves in Strat's curls, twisting the golden strands tightly. Strat moaned again, reaching up to do the same to Tink's shorn locks. Tink slowly unwound his fingers and tugged Strat's shirt over his head. Strat took the hint and pulled Tink's off as well, tracing the contours of his body with feather-light fingers. Tink bit back a moan, and Strat smiled.

"We can stop, if you want," he whispered, but Tink shook his head, letting his fingers trail down to Strat's hips. He slid the wasted youth's pants down slightly, and Strat shivered. "Well, if you're sure," he smirked. He planted kisses on Tink's throat, watching the pink flush colour his skin. Strat worked his fingers under the waistband of Tink's jeans, slowly sliding them down. Tink curled into Strat as the chill night air brushed his bare skin, and Strat took advantage to wrap the boy's legs around him. Their lips locked again, and the heat and electricity that had been trapped in the air since they'd first locked eyes finally had an outlet.

 


	8. The World Will Remember Us

When Tink woke the next morning, he was wrapped in a thin cotton blanket, Strat lying next to him. He looked at Strat's sleeping face - peaceful for the first time since he'd laid eyes on him. His lips were slightly open, and his chest rose and fell with each breath. Tink laid his head on Strat's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart against his ribs. A slight intake of breath had Tink sitting up, only to find a bright, ice-blue pair of eyes smiling at him.

"Enjoying the ambiance, Tinkerboy?" Tink snuggled in closer, letting Strat's arms wrap around him.

"Maybe a little," he mumbled, burying his face in the older boy's chest.

"Who'd've thought I'd end up with someone as mundane as a waiter?" Tink smiled.

"Well, you might be looking at a future actor." Strat sat up, shifting Tink's head into his lap. Somehow, both of them had gotten their pants back on. Strat absentmindedly twirled his fingers in Tink's hair, making him breathe a sigh of contentment.

"Well, maybe we could get you there." Tink twisted so he could look Strat in the face.

"What d'you mean?"

"I could plan a heist; there's a target not too far from here, it'd be a pretty easy mark -"

"Strat, I'm not made for that. I couldn't - I'm not -" Strat put a finger to Tink's lips, staring off into the distance.

"It's pretty easy, once you get the hang of it. We just need a couple of hits, just enough to get us to Hollywood. Then it's the silver screen for you, Tinkerboy." Tink mulled it over.

"Maybe. Just one, though, and then you're done. Okay?" Strat looked down at him and nodded.

"Scout's honour."

"You were never in Scouts."

"And neither were you. It's just a saying, kiddo." Tink smiled let his fingers trail across Strat's stomach, making the older boy shiver.

"But before we make any plans...maybe we could go back to bed. Just for a few more minutes." Strat smirked.

"I suppose I could be coerced."

 


	9. The Heist

"Okay. Here we go..." Strat whispered. He looked over to see Tink wringing his hands. "Hey, hey!" He grabbed the boy's hands and wrapped them tightly around his own. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna be fine."

"I've never done this before, Strat. What if I get us caught? What if I get us _killed_? What if -"

"Shh. It's gonna be _fine_." Tink took in a breath and nodded. "Let's do this." Strat pulled the mask down and held his hand out, hoisting Tink up into the line of sight of the bank.

"Hey! Hey!" Tink shouted, waving his arms and sprinting toward the bank. The doors burst open as employees ran toward him. 

"Help me! Strat Barrow's after me, he's gonna kill me! You have to help me!" The employees clustered around the crying boy, and Strat smiled. _This kid is_ good _._

He snuck through the still-open doors and into the now-empty bank as Tink gestured in the opposite direction of him, making a beeline for the safes.

"Okay...what've we got?" he mumbled to himself as he looked through the boxes. A couple of safes held only a few dollars - not worth stealing. One, though...Strat sucked in a breath. Stacks of dollar bills practically spilled out. Strat shoved some into the sack, finding a small diamond stud under them. _Might as well..._ With one last look to ensure nothing seemed disturbed, Strat took off out of the bank, motioning for Tink to wrap it up.

Tink scrubbed at his eyes one final time and stumbled away, looking terrified. Once he was back to their rendezvous, he looked at Strat fearfully.

"Did it work? Are you okay? How -" Strat gave a light laugh.

"Hey, Tinkerboy. I'm fine. It's fine. I've got enough to get us a little farther - maybe Arizona." Tink's forehead creased.

"Wait, Strat, you promised you were gonna stop -"

"Just one more, Tinkerboy. Then we'll be done." He hated this. He hated seeing Tink like this - distrusting, scared for him. He planted a quick kiss on the boy's lips and smiled, tilting his chin up so their eyes could meet, reveling in the small electricity that zipped between them. "I promise."

 


	10. Too Late to Turn Back Now

Tink was shaken awake violently, Strat's eyes wide and terrified.

"We gotta go, Tinkerboy. They found us. We gotta go."

"What? Strat, what's going on?! What -"

"No time. We gotta go. _Now_." Tink nodded and sprinted towards the door.

"No! They're out there! We gotta go out the back!" Strat hissed, grabbing him by his jacket and hauling him in the opposite direction.

"How did they find us?!" Tink stammered, voice hitching.

"I don't know kid, but we need to ditch 'em. Fast." They burst out the back door, the cold air biting Tink's face.

"Put your hands up!" Flashlights blew into their face, blinding Tink. He shielded his eyes and heard Strat suck in a breath.

"Just do what they say." _I know that voice_...

"Jagwire?!" Tink lowered his hands as the lights flashed away.

"Sorry, Strat. You shouldn't have left."

"I was gonna come back to you, man! You know I was -"

"Shut up! Shut the hell up!" Jagwire materialised from the whiteness, a hard glare on his face. Tink watched Strat's face go from hard to betrayed.

"How could you do this to us, to _me_?!" Strat shouted, taking a purposeful step towards him.

"Don't move!" Jagwire waved the officers off. "He's mine."

"Strat, what are you -" Jagwire spun towards Tink, the scowl deepening.

"So you still have the kid. What, I can be replaced by a child?"

Strat growled, "Don't you dare talk about him that way."

"Why? You gonna stop me?" Jagwire whipped out a gun, spinning the barrel in Tink's direction. His heart stopped. _He's gonna shoot me. I'm gonna die. I am going to die._

The gun fired.

 


	11. Dying Ain't So Bad

_No._ Strat whipped the pistol from his belt and fired, spinning around in time to see Tink fall to the ground. _No no no no no no._ Strat sprinted over to him as Jagwire fell behind him, dead.

"Strat...am I dying? Am I gonna die, Strat?"

"No way, Tinkerboy, you're gonna be fine." Strat felt for the wound - straight through his leg. He wouldn't be running anywhere soon. "We gotta go. The cops are gonna be here soon, and we gotta go, kid." He scooped Tink into his arms and leapt over Jagwire's prone form, already going cold. He tore his shirt off and wrapped it around Tink's bleeding thigh, ignoring the way the heat was leaching from his body. He practically hurled Tink onto the motorcycle, jumping on in front of him and gunning it away from their safehouse. He could hear Tink breathing hard, but he couldn't stop to check. He could already hear the shouts as the cops found Jagwire's body. The car engines were revved, and sirens blared.

Strat pressed his foot to the pedal. _We have to get out of here. Tink's going to die, and it's all my fault._ He took a hard turn, almost missing Tink's soft voice.

"You killed him."

"I didn't have a choice, Tink. I couldn't risk him finding us again. He knew all our spots."

"You didn't have to kill him. You could've taken him with us."

"I'm sorry, Tink. I didn't want to. But he shot you. He tried to _kill_ you."

"Strat?"

"Yeah, Tinkerboy?"

"I love you." The cops were gaining ground, shouting for them to stop. Strat looked ahead - straight road.

"I'm so sorry, Tink. I never meant -"

"It's okay, Strat. I love you." Strat leaned down and left one last lingering kiss on Tink's lips before the bullets began tearing through the air. They were firing, and there was no way to avoid the onslaught. Strat let go of the bike as the bullets ripped into him, hearing Tink scream behind him.

"I love you too."

 


End file.
